


Once I Was 7 Years Old

by EvanHarr98



Series: Songfic Series [25]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Adult Mumbo, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Mumbo, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Growing Old Together, Light Angst, Lukas Graham - Seven Years - Song, M/M, Minor Character Death, Old Age, Old Age Mumbo, Old Married Couple, Older Characters, Romantic Fluff, Shy Mumbo, Songfic, Teen Mumbo, Teenagers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Kissing, Underage Smoking, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:14:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24579628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvanHarr98/pseuds/EvanHarr98
Summary: Once I was seven years old,My Momma told me:Go and make some friends or you'll be lonely.Once I was seven years old.This story is of my own creation. I do not own the song and all the rights for said song go to Lukas Graham. This story does feature hermitshipping, however, I am only shipping the Minecraft personas and not the IRL people. :D
Relationships: Grian/Mumbo Jumbo
Series: Songfic Series [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711198
Comments: 18
Kudos: 55





	Once I Was 7 Years Old

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I've had this idea mulling around in my head for some time. I hope you enjoy it, to get the full affect of the story, please give the actual song a listen. I will post the link at the beginning of the story :D

_Once I was seven years old, my momma told me_

_Go make yourself some friends or you’ll be lonely_

_Once I was seven years old._

Birds sang from their perch in the guttering that hung outside their large suburban kitchen, Mumbo sat on the chair, his little feet kicking below him as he chubby cheek rested on his hands. 

“What’s wrong, munchkin?” His mother’s soft voice hummed from where she leant over the oven, the sweet smells of a chocolate cake billowed out from the seam of the stove’s door.

She stood to her full height and stared down at her son, he donned his usual dark red overalls, his little black top hung from his shoulders, pinned down by the straps of the dungarees. 

He gave a frustrated huff and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m bored, ‘ma.” He whimpered, wide eyes peered up at her. The raven-haired woman smiled sweetly at him before she stepped forward and ruffled his hair.

“Why don’t you go out and play? I’m sure you’ll make some friends?” She suggested, a supportive smile on her face. Mumbo stared at her for a moment.

_Go outside?_

_To meet other people?_

_Nope! Absolutely not!_

_People were scary! They’re always mean, who’s to say they won’t be mean again?_

Frustrated tears welled up in the seven year old’s eyes as he stared down at his hands. “I don’wanna!” He whined.

Hearing their conversation, a tall, slender man leant against the doorway, his green eyes focused on the child as his lips quirked up in a soft smile. “What’re you scared of, boy?” He asked. 

Mumbo whipped around in his chair and shot his father a teary-eyed expression of utter misery. “The other kids! They’re mean to me!” He whimpered. 

The man’s brows furrowed on his face, a deep crease appeared in his forehead as he glanced at his wife with a puzzled expression. When he received no answer to his curiosity, he knelt before the child and grasped his son’s tiny hands in both of his larger ones. 

“I tell you what, then? How about the two of us go out and play catch and then I’ll help you meet the other kids? How does that sound?” He asked hopefully.

Mumbo paused for a moment a thoughtful look tugged at his features but as soon as it had appeared it was replaced by a beaming smile as he nodded. “Uh-huh! That sounds good, daddy!” He yipped. 

The man chuckled as he stood, pressing a tickly-moustache kiss to his forehead before he winked to the woman, who flashed her two boys a fond smile. “Have fun!” She called out as her child sprinted to find his favourite ball. 

“We will ‘ma!” He yelled back.

Chuckling, his father followed the bundle of energy outside, he led Mumbo to the green that each house shared and the two began to play catch. 

Mumbo burst into fits of giggles when he threw the ball at his father, the man would reach and try to catch it, only to miss it and land on the ground dramatically, grinning with endearment when his child almost fell over in his hysterics.

“Hey! Can we play?!” 

Mumbo’s brows shot to his hairline at the sound of the other’s voice as he sprinted to hide behind his father’s legs as the man plucked the ball from the ground. “Woah there buddy.” He chuckled before he bent down to Mumbo’s height. 

“They want to play.” He hummed and nodded towards them. “Why don’t you go and introduce yourself.” He encouraged. 

Mumbo stared at his dad with a warning expression flashing in his eyes as if he was trying to telepathically state how unsure he was. The man chuckled and nudged his son forwards.

Stumbling on his unsteady feet, the seven-year-old gave one last glance back to his father before he nervously shuffled towards the two new boys.

Stood about a metre away was a blond boy, his hair was bunched with frazzled loose curls, a smattering of freckles covered his rosy cheeks and a pair of oversized glasses slipped down his nose. He seemed a little older than Mumbo. 

Besides the blond boy was a brunette, he seemed a lot older than the two, he wore a glowing patch over his left eye. 

“H-Hello, my n-name is M-Mumbo. P-Pleased to meet ya.” 

“Hi! I’m Grian! I’m nine years old and this here is Iskall. He’s twelve!” The blond chirped. “How old are you?”

Mumbo’s face paled slightly as he glanced back nervously to his father, the man nodded, a soft smile plastered across his face.

“It’s okay, Mumby.” He hummed supportively.

“I-I’m seven.”

_It was a big, big world, but we thought we were bigger_

_Pushing each other to the limits we were learning quicker_

_By eleven smoking herb and drinking burning liquor._

_Never rich, so we were out to make that steady figure._

The three friends grew together, after that first day they had become inseparable. 

Grian, Mumbo and Iskall, or as they fondly referred to themselves as Architechs, traipsed through the forests that surrounded their houses and ruined their clothes, building forts where Mumbo and Iskall later rigged up to have doors and other functional features. 

As Mumbo reached his final year of primary school, Grian was already in his second year of high school and Iskall had reached his last year and was preparing to leave for college. 

The three rarely hung out after Iskall had come to the end of his pubescent years, steadily existing in the hormonal phases of adolescence. 

The oldest boy had made friends his own age, and while he still met up with his old friends, it was a rarity.

So when Iskall had invited his young friends out to spend time with him and his new friends, Mumbo and Grian had jumped at the opportunity, albeit the blond was far more enthusiastic than the raven-haired boy.

Mumbo shivered as the evening chill swam through his clothes, he wrapped his black hoodie closer to himself and cast worried glances to his other two friends as Iskall laughed along with Grian.

“Hey, do you guys want a blunt?” A spotty teen asked the three, his gaze focusing on the youngest of the group, an almost malicious mischief flashed behind his eyes as he held up the joint that was clutched between his thumb and forefinger. 

Iskall glanced between his new friend and Mumbo, already shaking his head, the smaller boy hugged his knees close to his thin frame as he watched the exchange. 

“Really? He’d like eleven? What’s wrong with you dude?” Iskall admonished, snarling at the lad. 

“Ohoho! Yeah, I forgot, we got a child here. Sorry, ‘Skall, my bad!” 

Mumbo’s eyes flicked between the two as they exchanged words and at the sound of being called a child, something swelled in his chest. His brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed on Iskall. 

_How dare he?_

He’d never looked down on Mumbo before.

He'd never drawn attention to the age gap that stood between them.

He shook his head and pushed himself from the log. “Yeah. I-I’ll take one of those… Umm… Thingies!” Mumbo spouted, surprising himself. The brunette’s eyes widened as he focused on the smaller of the three. 

“Mumbo, mate. Think about this.”

“You’re not my dad, _‘Skall_.” He huffed, sneering the nickname the strange boy had given him, spitting it out like an insult. 

Sidling up beside Mumbo, Grian raised his hand and asked for a joint as well, his gaze wary and filled with trepidation. “You don’t have to do this, man.” Mumbo huffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m not a child, I can do it myself.”

“I know you’re not. But, we have been friends for years and I haven’t left you alone yet. I’m not about to start now.” Grian retorted his tone stern, leaving no room for arguments.

Iskall’s friend proffered two rolled joints out to the younger boys, his eyes flicking with some sort of sick pride as he glanced over their shoulders and to Iskall, who stood still, a shocked worried expression painting his face.

_Once I was eleven years old, my daddy told me_

_Go get yourself a wife or you’ll be lonely._

_Once I was eleven years old._

Mumbo pulled his legs closer to his chest as he quivered under his duvet, hot tears cascaded down his face as he stared at the back wall of his bedroom. 

Iskall had walked Grian and himself home last night, their heads spinning from the marijuana that coursed through their bodies, the smoke had hurt his throat and caused him to have a coughing fit, but after he’d forced himself to take a deeper inhale of the drug, a strange fuzzy feeling had taken over him, numbing his limbs.

They’d been offered a bottle of some kind and both he and the blond had taken a swig of it. The liquid fire had burned an inferno straight down his neck and to his belly, fluttering dangerously there. He’d wanted to spit it out, but he wasn’t a child.

When he’d finally arrived back home, his parents had noticed the change in him instantly and it hadn’t taken too much probing to figure out what their son had done. 

Once they’d assessed him and concluded that he was safe and okay, they’d sentenced him to a weeklong grounding with his mobile privileges revoked.

He’d instantly teared up, it was the first time he’d got into any trouble and the thought of upsetting his parents had struck something so deep within the child that he’d taken himself to bed and had not moved from under the covers since, his sobbing wracking through his body.

A soft knock sounded on his door, he flinched at it, afraid that his mother or father would come in, still angry at him. Instead, a small voice bridged the tense silence in the room.

“Mumbo?” 

_Grian?_

Mumbo brushed his hands roughly across his cheeks, swiping away the tear stains that soaked him and sniffled as he pushed himself up and stared out and across to the other.

“Wh-What are you d-doing here? I’m not supposed t-to have friends over. I-I’m grounded.” He muttered in misery.

“Your parents called mine and they thought it would be a good idea for us to be grounded together. I think your mum and dad were worried about you.” He admitted, a small smile spreading across his face. 

Mumbo sat straighter, a grin pushing away the sadness. “Oh!” He chirped and budged over, tapping the space on the mattress beside him. “There’s room for you too.” He trilled as he lifted the duvet.

Not needing more encouragement, Grian almost skipped across the room and jumped into the offered warmth, snuggling closer to his friend.

The two boys laid together in the darkness, their hands clasped together and their heads sharing the same pillow. 

“Thank you for not leaving me alone earlier, Grian.” Mumbo whispered. 

“Never.” Came the airy reply and in the darkness, Mumbo felt the soft press of lips against his nose as a butterfly kiss was bestowed on him and he was very thankful for the lack of light, for he was sure that from the burning of his cheeks, his face was flushing a bright scarlet.

  
  


_I always had that dream, like my daddy before me._

_So, I started writing songs, I started writing stories_

_Something about that glory just always seemed to bore me._

_Cause only those I really love will ever really know me._

In the dead of night, music blared through the large garden of Mumbo’s house. It was his seventeenth Guy Fawkes Night and if he were honest with himself, he found the fireworks boring. Well, he found them dull in comparison to kissing his boyfriend.

Stolen away in his bedroom, the flickering of the bonfire just outside lit an orange hue through his bedroom window, the golden tendrils danced up his walls as the crackling and whizz-popping of pyrotechnic rockets flying through the air was the symphonic bass that thrummed through Mumbo’s and Grian’s time together.

Clumsy lips slid together as their hands explored each other’s bodies through their clothes. Their panting and whimpering was the only sound that they made as they laid together in Mumbo’s bed like they did all those years ago.

_Once I was twenty years old, my story got told._

_Before the morning sun, when life was lonely._

_Once I was twenty years old._

_Received - 00:25 - 23.05.16_

_Grian: I miss you. xx_

Mumbo smiled down at his glowing phone screen, his laptop hummed in the corner - his latest lecture notes were scrawled across a word document, forgotten in favour of texting his lover.

_Sent - 00:26 - 23.05.16_

_Mumbo: I miss you too, how’s work been? xx_

_Received - 00:27 - 23.05.16_

_Grian: It’s been borning. Iskall is certain that we need to make a deal with Google for advertising, but I’m not so sure. Can’t wait until you start working with us. Xx_

_Sent - 00:28 - 23.05.16_

_Mumbo: Are you not sure because you don’t know how to set it up and you don’t want to admit defeat? ;-) :-* Also, not long now, I’ve just got a year before I graduate! xx_

_Received - 00:30 - 23.05.16_

_Grian: Maaaaybe? And don’t call me out like that, you prick! Ily! Xx_

_Sent - 00:31 - 23.05.16_

_Mumbo: I love you too, Gri. xx_

_I only see my goals, I don’t believe in failure._

_Cause I know the smallest voices, they can make it major._

_I got my boys with me, at least those in favour._

_And if we don’t meet before I leave, I hope I’ll see you later._

Silence blissfully swirled through the examination hall as Mumbo hunched over his desk, pen clasped firmly in his fingers, he scribbled through the questions.

“You all have thirty minutes remaining.” The invigilator called out to the crowd of students, Mumbo’s eyes flicked up to the front of the cavernous room and he grimaced. He still had half of his paper to work through. 

He sighed as he flicked through to the next question. 

‘Three boys build a fort out in a forest. They want to achieve a ceiling height of five foot. What supportive beams must they use to ensure their success?’

Three boys. 

A smile graced across Mumbo’s lips as his memories flashed through his mind. Iskall, Grian and himself sprinted through the forest, their legs scraping against mud and nettles, their shoes caked in mud and large smiles plastered across their faces. 

Life was so much simpler then. It had been the best of times, all their worries had consisted of how long they had left to play together. 

“Time.”

_Fuck._

_Once I was twenty years old, my story got told._

_I was writing ‘bout everything I saw before me._

_Once I was twenty years old!_

“Mumbo. Why do you think you scored so low on your test?”

He squirmed in his seat as his professor raised a questioning brow at him.

“I don’t know, sir.” 

“Do you think you could have done something differently?”

_Yes._

_Although, not about the exams._

He could have been bolder, could have stood taller, could have realised what he had right in front of him before his two best friends (and boyfriend) were whisked away, as they started the business, holding a spot for him, as a founder, for when he’d finished university.

A knock echoed through the classroom, Mumbo twisted in his seat to see a woman peer behind the door. “I need Mumbo for a second.” She’d almost whispered. 

The professor gave a swift nod. “We’ll carry on this chat when you get back.”

Mumbo hummed in reply as he followed the woman from the classroom. 

Outside, the hallway was silent, devoid of life, all apart from himself and the administrator, who’d stolen him from his one-to-one tutorial session.

“What’s wrong, Mrs Hills?”

The woman stared at Mumbo, her eyes wide with mortification, her chin wobbling. “I’m so sorry.” She whimpered. “Your mother rang earlier. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but your father passed away early this morning.”

_Soon we’ll be thirty years old, our songs have been sold._

_We’ve travelled around the world and we’re still roaming_

_Soon we’ll be thirty years old._

“Do you, Mr Mumbo Oliver take Grian Charleston as your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, and until death do you part?”

“I do.”

The chapel was beautiful, music hummed gently in the background, the sunlight trickled through the ornate windows, bathing the large room in natural light. White lacy bunting had been strewn between the tall pillars that stood on guard, symmetrical, throughout the room. Flowers stood proudly in vases, their petals a beautiful rainbow as they preened for the audience that surrounded them.

_Everyone was there._

_No… Not everyone._

_Someone was missing._

_Daddy? I love you. I hope you’re proud of me._

_I’m still learning about life, my woman brought children for me._

_So I can sing them all my songs and I can tell them stories._

_Most of my boys are with me, some are still out seeking glory._

_And some I had to leave behind, my brother I’m so sorry._

“I’m bored, papa!” The little high-pitched voice echoed through the kitchen as a toffee pudding was baking in the oven. Mumbo leant against the doorframe as he watched his husband check the sweet through the window of the stove. 

A scent of sweetness filled the room in plumes of delicious perfumes. Mumbo could hardly wait to cut a slice of the sticky cake. 

“Why don’t you go out and play?” Grian offered their child, only to receive a forlorn sigh at. 

“What’s wrong, Charlie?” The little dirty blond-haired boy twisted in his seat, peering up at his daddy with wide sad eyes.

“I’m scared.” He admitted. 

A small smile flickered across Mumbo’s lips as he leant down before his son, as his father had once done for him. He clasped the child’s little hands in both of his own and beamed up at him.

“How about we all go and play catch, me, you and Papa?” He offered. The boy’s face lit up with excitement as he gave an enthusiastic nod.

Mumbo grinned at the response and jerked his head towards the door. “Go and put your shoes on then, we’ll be right out.” He offered before he pushed himself to stand and stepped beside Grian, both watching as Charlie lept from his seat and sprinted out of the room. 

“So that’s why you were playing catch?” Grian wrapped his arm around Mumbo’s waist, pulling the tall, slender man closer to him. He gazed down at his husband and grinned.

“Mm-hmm.” Mumbo hummed as he pressed a tickly moustache kiss to the blond’s lips.

_Soon I’ll be sixty years old, my daddy got sixty-one_

_Remember life and then your life becomes a better one._

_I made a man so happy when I wrote a letter once._

_I hope my children come and visit once or twice a month._

Rain pattered against the windowpanes of the little cottage. Mumbo snuggled deeper in his armchair as he pulled his blanket tighter around himself, smiling happily as the fire spat and crackled in its mantle. 

_Soon I’ll be sixty years old, will I think the world is cold?_

_Or will I have a lot of children who can warm me?_

_Soon I’ll be sixty years old!_

“Grandpa! I miss grandad!” The little girl huffed as she curled her arms about her chest and pouted softly, her brow furrowed as tears welled up in her eyes. Mumbo stared down at the child and flashed her a warm and wrinkled smile. 

“I know, petal. I miss him too.” He sighed as he beckoned her to his lap. The child shot up from her place on the floor and trampled over her toys to get to him.

She clambered across his withered old lap and curled against him, breathing in his comforting scent. He rubbed a large hand across her tiny back, soothing her sniffles. 

“I miss him too…”

_Soon I’ll be sixty years old, will I think the world is cold?_

_Or will I have a lot of children who can hold me?_

_Soon I’ll be sixty years old._

“We’re back!”

“Daddy!” The little girl squirmed out of Mumbo’s grasp and sprinted across the room, barrelling into her father’s arms. Charlie chuckled deeply as he swept the child off her feet and held her close to him. 

Behind the cuddling duo, a blond man stepped through the threshold of the sitting room, shopping bags were held in each hand and a beaming smile spread across his face.

Mumbo glanced up and a mirrored grin curled around his lips as he stared at the other man. He was suddenly existing in two realities. 

Before him, the man was small, hunched, his body swaddled in an oversized woollen cardigan, his eyes worn and tired with age, his face wrinkled with years of life.

But at the same time, a young nine-year-old was stood in the door, his golden hair hung as loose ringlets around his cherubic face, a smattering of freckles covered his cheeks and a pair of glasses that were a size too big slipped down the bridge of his nose.

_Once I was seven years old._

_My momma told me._

_Go make yourself some friends or you’ll be lonely._

_Once I was seven years old._

“Hello Grian, my love.”


End file.
